


written in scandal

by Areiton



Series: Tony Stark Bingo [2]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: College Student Peter Parker, Confessions, Future Fic, M/M, Mutual Pining, Non-Consensual Filming, Protective Tony Stark, Scandal, Sex Tapes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-03
Updated: 2019-03-03
Packaged: 2019-11-08 08:26:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17977820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Areiton/pseuds/Areiton
Summary: “What’s going on?”And she says the two words that send the whole world crashing down around him.“It’s Peter.”Tony Stark Bingo Fill: R4 - Peter Parker/Spider-Man





	written in scandal

He gets the call when he’s in his lab, a level ten authorized call from Pepper that overrides his do not disturb settings and sets him on edge before she even opens her mouth. 

“I didn’t do it,” he says, immediately and she doesn’t laugh. 

Probably not a good sign, honestly. Her features are pinched and tight, the kind of unhappy he remembers in the immediate days of their final split. 

But not since. 

This--his heart does a weird flip and he straightens. “What’s going on?” 

And she says the two words that send the whole world crashing down around him. 

“It’s Peter.” 

 

~*~

 

FRIDAY brings up the footage while he’s still on the phone with Pepper and he has the AI mute it, watching with mounting fury as the two men on the screen kiss. He watches as Peter is pushed on the bed, the way the other man crawls up to hover over him, the way Peter arches into every touch, his head tossed back, his eyes closed. 

“Where is it?” he asks, his voice tight and cold. 

“Everywhere,” she says, and he curses, a hot string of fury that he cuts off abruptly. “I’m doing what I can, Tony. But you need to get Peter to safety.” 

He closes his eyes and sees Peter arching on that fucking bed, and almost says, Peter can take care of himself. 

But he doesn’t. He nods and says, “I’m on my way. I want this down by noon, and I want to know who the fuck I’m suing by end of day.” 

Pepper doesn’t argue. She hangs up and goes to work and Tony--

Tony goes to get his boy. 

 

~*~

 

He gets the text mid-way through his physics class. It’s not unusual for Tony to text him in class--for a genius, he had a pretty loose relationship with silly things like formal education--but this made Peter sit up, hitting like that quad-shot latte hadn’t. 

 

**Man in a Can** :  _ SI 911 level 10.  _

**Man in a Can:** Outside, now. 

 

Peter didn’t bother with explanations--he’d make it up to his prof later, or blame it on Avengers shit, because if there was any good coming out of him being linked to the Avengers, it’s that he got a lot of leeway about arriving late or leaving early when it came to classes. 

Tony was parked in front of his building when Peter spilled out, the engine running, and Peter almost fell into the seat, the door barely closing before Tony peeled away in a screech of tires and Peter looked at him. 

Really looked. 

He was wearing sunglasses, and a suit, and he wasn’t looking away from the road, his mouth set in the hard tight line that Peter only ever saw when he fucked up on a mission and got himself hurt. 

He wasn’t hurt now, though. 

“Call May, kid. She needs to get to the Tower. Upstate, if she can take the time off. But the Tower will do.” 

“What happened?” Peter asks, dread tight in his gut, and Tony gives him a look. 

It makes him flinch, the cold fury in his eyes making him jerk back. In all the years he’s known Tony, in all the shit he’s pulled--he’s never seen Tony look at him like that. 

He doesn’t know what the hell he did to prompt it now, but his stomach twists, and he falls back in his seat, questions trapped behind his tightly compressed lips and tears burning in his eyes. 

 

~*~

 

Tony doesn’t explain while he’s driving. He doesn’t think he  _ can. _ Isn’t sure how to explain at all, but--well. Has to. He leads Peter into the compound, and reaches for a bottle of water because if he reaches for alcohol he’ll drink until he stops seeing that damn video, and he can’t do that, not until he’s dealt with this. 

Peter is watching him, his eyes wide and cautious and  _ hurt _ and that stings, because as angry as he is--he didn’t want to hurt Peter, not ever. 

And he’s going to. There’s no way through this without hurting him. 

So he says it, abruptly, like ripping off a band-aid, and watches the kid go pale and shocked. 

“Someone posted your sex tape, kid.” 

Peter laughs. “I don’t  _ have  _ a sex tape, Mr. Stark.” 

Tony’s stomach swoops, does this ugly twist as rage flares hot in his belly and he keeps from lashing out only because Peter’s happy expression is bleeding into something...not. 

“FRIDAY,” he calls, and Peter goes white as the video plays. The sound is muted, but it’s there, the grainy footage playing out larger than life, and Peter’s so pale--he sways and Tony curses, jumping forward to clutch him and hold him upright. “Fuck, kid, you didn’t know,” he breathes, and that--

That changes  _ everything.  _

 

~*~

 

Peter gets deposited on the couch, and Tony turns his attention to his phone. Peter watches him absently, listens as he snarls into his phone, his fury so clear it’s tangible. 

He crawls from the couch and into a corner of the room, webbing himself a little nest and pulling up a search of his name. 

The video is  _ everywhere.  _ On Twitter and Instagram, his notifications are off the charts. There’s a news clip from TechWatch, and three from FoxNews, all showing clips of the leaked tape and speculating on the SI’s youngest and brightest mind. 

They’re comparing him to Mr. Stark, but at his worst--not the superhero he longs to be, but the playboy billionaire, following too close in the steps his mentor walked, and Peter’s stomach lurches. 

He remembers that night. 

Of course he does. It’s the only night he spent with Flash. Hot, too rough sex fueled by years of animosity and too much beer. 

But there’d never been a camera. He’d never have allowed that. 

He’s not  _ stupid. _

Tony is pacing and his voice is low and tight and lethal, the kind of cold furious that makes the hair on Peter’s arms go up because he’s only ever that cold when he’s ready to kill. 

“How the hell should I know, Pepper,” Tony snaps. “The kid isn’t exactly confiding in me.” 

And that--

That isn’t fair. 

It’s not  _ fair _ for Tony to be this furious, not when Peter can’t throw a stone without hitting three sex tapes. 

He swings down from his nest, coming to land in front of Tony, his gaze bright and furious, his eyes shining with tears. 

He doesn’t say anything, just turns on his heel and storms to his room, and distantly, he hears Tony say, “Ahh, shit.” 

 

~*~

 

There’s a part of him that wants to let the kid stew. Wants to leave him to his outraged hurt, and deal with this shit storm--and there’s a part of him that aches because Peter is  _ hurting _ . He hates when Peter is upset, always has this ridiculous urge to fix it, even knowing that nine times out of ten, Peter doesn’t want him to.

He punches in the text to Pepper, and goes after his boy. 

Peter is in his room, and Tony hovers in the doorway. They’d come a long way since the War, and Peter’s temporary death--long enough that Peter wasn’t his protege, he was an inventor, a patent holder in his own right, climbing through the ranks of SI’s biochemists. That was half the problem. He went from being a curiosity as Tony’s personal intern and protege, to being lauded  by Tony for his inventions and brilliant mind and no one could pretend that Peter was an anonymous boy from Queens anymore. 

He was a reflection of the company, a reflection of Tony--and Tony could keep telling himself that this  _ rage _ he’s feeling was only the tarnished reflection--but it wasn’t. 

He knew it wasn’t. 

“I’m going to take care of this,” he says, and his voice is brusque, cold almost. 

Peter’s shoulders stiffen, the way they do when he’s hurt, but his voice comes out  _ angry. _ “Why the hell does it matter? It’s not like you don’t have a fucking  _ library _ of sex tapes.” 

“You aren’t me, kid,” Tony snaps. 

“No. Better, right? That’s the goal. This isn’t better--gotta be pissing you off.” 

The bitter bite of Peter’s voice cuts right through him, and he opens his mouth--and then closes it again. 

“Media blackout, while Pepper and I fix this,” he says. “And stay out of the suit--I don’t want any exposure more than we’ve already got.” 

Tony doesn’t wait for a response--Peter isn’t going to give him one. He just storms out.  

 

~*~

 

Peter is going crazy by the time Tony comes back. It’s only been forty hours, but there’s exhaustion in those dark eyes, and a set to his chin that makes Peter’s mouth close before he can demand any answers. 

Tony tosses a file on the bed. “It’s done.” 

“What does that mean,” Peter asks, cautiously reaching for the file. Tony doesn’t answer, and Peter frowns, flicks it open. 

It’s a report, written quick and sparing, and he recognizes Pepper’s work--she’s the only one who can streamline a report enough that Tony will read it. 

It’s lists. Neat and orderly, site after site, all of them there, lined up in rows. Sued or paid off or--”What did you give them?” he asks, his voice empty.

“Interviews,” Tony says. Peter’s gaze snaps up. Tony has refused to do an interview for years--and here are at least a dozen, all that he agreed to. 

And the cost--he can see the bribes listed, and it’s making him dizzy, so he let’s the folder close and peers up at Tony. 

Who is watching him patient and intent. “How much did cleaning this up cost you,” he asks. 

Tony shrugs. “Nothing I wasn’t more than willing to pay.” 

“Tony--” he starts, and Tony lifts a hand. 

“Don’t, Pete. Not on this. You--I will not apologize for doing this. Not ever. You are  _ mine _ to protect.” 

Peter tilts his head, turning those words in his head. There’s something there, under the fierce anger and exhaustion, something in the neatly ordered rows of sites he’s suing and bribed and bought. 

The same thing that lingers unspoken in the late nights in the workshop, the same thing that wraps around him when they fall asleep watching a movie in the middle of the night, and the warm blanket that is Tony’s steady gaze when he wakes from a nightmare to see him sitting on the edge of Peter’s bed. 

It’s there. 

“Why,” he whispers. “Why does it bother you so much?” 

Tony swallows hard. “It’s--you didn’t consent, and you’re  _ better  _ than that.” 

Peter has a moment to wonder just how badly Tony hurt Flash for this--to wonder if he’s still breathing, before he focuses again. “But it  _ bothers _ you. Not the consent thing. Why does it bother you, Mr. Stark?” 

He’s close enough he can smell Tony’s cologne, feel the subtle heat of him, and it feels electric, tense and alive and he wants to press  _ closer.  _

“Why?” he whispers, touching Tony’s waist, tentatively. 

Tony shudders, and his head drops to Peter’s shoulder, hands coming up to grip Peter’s waist, tight, bruisingly tight. 

“Because I didn’t want to see you like that. Not on film, Pete. Not for the first time.” 

Peter’s heart is pounding and he can feel it tingling in his fingertips as he tangles his hand in Tony’s hair and drags him into a kiss. 

“Let me show you,” he whispers and Tony whines against his lips, presses him into the bed. 

 

~*~

 

“Tony?” he asks, later, sticky and spent, licking a line up Tony’s throat. 

“Hmm, baby?” 

“How much did it cost?” Peter asks and Tony blinks at him. Smiles, and kisses him, soft. 

“Not more than I was willing to pay,” he says softly. 

Peter presses into his side, and closes his eyes. 

There’s something under his words, but this is easy to read. 

There’s no price Tony isn’t willing to pay, to protect Peter. 

He kisses the scars on Tony’s chest, a silent acceptance of Tony’s love. 

Tony rolls them gently, presses him into the bed and dips down to kiss him. “I need you to understand this. I can't stop you from doing things that are dangerous--but I will  _ always _ do everything I can to protect you. If that means a multi-million dollar suit, or bribing every shitty news outlet in the known world--I’ll do it.” He stares down at Peter, intent and demanding and so genuine it makes Peter  _ ache.  _ “Do you understand what I’m telling you?” 

It’s there. Written in his words and in the air around them, in the fury he saw when Tony realized what had happened--it’s all there. 

_ Tony loves him.  _

So Peter nods and leans up to kiss him. “Yes, Mr. Stark.” 

 


End file.
